The Tournament Prince & His Lioness
by Yuki-Roentgen
Summary: The Triwizard Tournament has come once again and trouble seems to be brewing already as once again another name has been drawn: Draco Malfoy. Everyone knows what happened before, and with the rise of Voldemort, the risks are even higher. Hermoine, all too familiar with said risks, is determined to protect Draco, no matter the costs of falling for a Death Eater.


Yo! Back to a quick HP fanfic again, this time DracoxHermoine inspired and Beta'd by IggyxNoir. Draco and Hermoine begin their secret meetings~.

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It was time once again. The years had passed and the time drew near, there were rumors of whether it would even happen again after…well, the last tournament. The loss; the fear; and the revival. They had put their lives on the lines unknowingly, on the chess board that he who-Voldemort…had set up so carefully. Yet in the end, the schools decided that the Triwizard Tournament would be held once again. In order to pay respect to the incidents last time, Hogwarts once again was host and every night the great hall was lit with memorial candles in which the ceiling appeared to be water; the candles floating within the water was a strangely peaceful sight to behold. The death had left a scar upon their hearts, and everyone knew they were at risk once again when the goblet of fire spit angrily out an additional name once again: Draco Malfoy.

Celebrations in the Slytherin House had died down over the past few days, and that was perhaps the best opportunity. The male with short, tight curly blonde-brown hair and dark chocolate eyes followed behind the crowd of Slytherins, adjusting his green and silver tie and stuffing it beneath his vest. His eyes were full of determination, but his expression was one of worry. Sneaking into another dormitory was not only breaking a rule, but one that was strictly enforced and could cost House Points. The last thing he wanted to do was to cause his true House disappointment, it was a weight he bore unknowingly, but constantly.

They gave the password and the serpents slithered inside their hole. Taking a final deep breath, he strode inside, holding his head up high and glimpsing around as if selecting his prey. His gaze finally landed upon his target: the blonde male with emerald eyes whom starred into the fire as if beckoning it's warmth. The others had departed to their respective sides for some much needed sleep, leaving the blonde and brunette alone. He would have to go upstairs and pray that the others were asleep so he could place the object somewhere safe.

"You there!"

He froze at the voice. He knew it too well, but one of the last times she had spoken with him, it hadn't been on the best of terms. He turned to face the blonde. "Yes D-um-do you know which side is for males?" He said trying to cover the fact that he knew his name, he pointed to both sets of stairs that lead to the sleeping quarters.

Draco starred at the unfamiliar male, looking him up and down, wondering if he was even worth putting his book down. Believe it or not, he did study and he would have to double up on studying for Arithmancy with all the time the tournament would require of him. Turning his eyes away from the brunnete, he simply let out a short chuckle, "Why don't you try one and figure it out," he suggested.

They both knew very well that the opposite gender's stairs would turn into a slide. Of course he knew which side was for the males, but he had missed his opportunity to follow behind a male student. The spell was enough to change her physical appearance enough to trick a student, but not the ancient school. "W-well, I was hoping you could show me, I'm rather new here and seemed to have lost track of the prefect." Hold it together, he thought to himself, biting the tip of his tongue, eyes glued to the blonde.

Draco reluctantly pried his gaze from the book once again, full on glaring at the male, "Who are you? We weren't informed of any transfers," he stated flatly. After a moment of silent contemplation, he closed his book, standing up and tossing it where he had sat in a sense of claiming the spot for the self-declared prince.

"My name is-"

The true Slytherin was suddenly upon him. The height ratio had remained the same, but he seemed more threatening now than ever. He was alone and she knew she was a better duelist than he, but this was his territory, his home.

"Granger."

That had been the beginning of the end. Since that night, Hermoine and Draco had begun to meet. Their justification was simple: the princess and prince were training to ensure his-safety according to Hermoine, victory according to Draco. However, since that initial failure, they ensured that their meetings were far less risky for the Lioness.

"Alright Draco, let's give it a try," Hermoine declared, setting down the book atop the ever growing stack that the two had studied. It was still strange. The Gryffindor Princess helping the Slytherin Prince. They had gathered up as many books as Hermoine had in her collection. Well, more or less "safe" depending upon your definition. The two had taken up the Shrieking Shack as their study, training, and general rendezvous point. Afterall, the muggle couldn't go soiling the pureblood's reputation. That was the excuse their peers were given every time they had made a slip, and Draco's little posse always went along with it, but despite her sneer and unphased expression, she couldn't deny that it stung.

Draco gave a nod, standing up in an all too graceful movement that she had never noticed before. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his most recently matched wand, a Dragon's Core no less and of no surprise what so ever.

Matching his movements, the Lioness took up her own wand and led them to the first floor in which they had cleared everything out of in order to provide the most room for the training of whatever spell she had drilled into him through book work. Of course Hermoine had taken further precautions to cast several spells around the area to ensure they didn't destroy the building nor be too loud so as to attract attention. Draco frequently complained about the method, but always more or less did what she requested of him. He still didn't know what she had up her sleeve or why she insisted upon these sessions, but he was beginning to think there was a little more snake traits in her then she had led people to believe. _No one did all this work for nothing._ That, was simple fact.

They stood opposite eachother, wands at the ready. It was an all too familiar sight and had circumstances been different, Hermoine wouldn't have had qualms against giving him a good old wizard thrashing.

"Incendio Tria!" Hermoine yelled out, swishing her wand in a downward slash as a burst of flame suddenly erupted from her wand and flew at Draco, hissing at him as it neared, illuminating his expression of mild surprise.

Draco smirked, pointing his wand directly at the incoming flame, "Glacius Tria!"

Successful in the cast, the flame slowly changed from crimson and gold to a pale blue hue and when the entire flame had been consumed, it crashed to the floor with a loud crash, sending ice shards about the floor.

"What happened to 'go'?" Draco asked sarcastically-which although she didn't appreciate, did find better than his far earlier snarkyness.

"What dragon do you know says 'go' before trying to turn you to dust Draco?" Hermoine replied, her wand still pointed directly at him. "Have you drawn for your Dragon yet?" she inquired knowingly. It was thanks to Harry that she knew all the details of the Tournament, but he didn't know why this knowledge was necessary this late after the fact of his time. She had hoped he had shrugged it off as curiosity.

Draco cocked his head at her, "Sometime I forget I'm working with a Potter," he replied, relaxing confidentally and dusting off his shirt sleeve. "Yeah, I got the same one as him," he finished, a bit of venom in his voice at any word mentioning her friend.

"Flipendo!"

Draco was shot back and landed on his bum, a sore reminder of earlier years, he looked up at her confused like a pup, but then realized both her reason and excuse. He had dared to insult the chosen one and a dragon would be able to send him flying. The look in her eyes though showed clearly that she was pleased with herself.

"Expelliarmus," Hermoine's wand went flying, her gaze along with it, turning to look at a once again too close for comfort Draco, "What Dragon do you know carries a wand?"


End file.
